


Nothing Special

by Bartkartoffeln



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Research, Romance, pondering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2020-09-02 06:44:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20271652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bartkartoffeln/pseuds/Bartkartoffeln
Summary: Pondering over a problem of arcane nature at first, Essek soon finds himself thinking of the Zemnian wizard, Caleb Widogast, wondering what the man could need on his journeys.





	1. Nothing Special

With a wave of his hand, Essek put out the light in the room, lying down in his bed. Closing his eyes did nothing to bring sleep, however. His thoughts were still wandering, clinging to the arcane problems of the day. Lately, his development of dunamantic spells lacked the progress he desired. 

Turning to his side, he let his mind wander back to the pages of his study book, pondering over the properties of dunamantically infused ink, still wondering if it was possible at all to create such a spell component. Certainly, that kind of ink held countless possibilities regarding spell construction as well as transcription. 

His thoughts drifted farther. The problem slowly vanished from his mind, replaced by the picture of the Zemnian wizard transcribing a spell from Essek’s book to his own, feather tip in perfect tilt, the sound of scratching on paper a perfect harmony to accompany the runes and circles.

He was nothing special, that Caleb Widogast. Nothing special at all. That cat spell of his was remarkable, however, truly a nice piece of work. The incredible blue eyes lighting up in curiosity and hope, whenever there was a possibility to learn something new, that was intriguing, admittedly. 

Essek turned over onto his back, eyes staring into the darkness of his room now. Mysterious, that Caleb Widogast. He had his demons. Had his flaws. There was no denying that this man knew exactly what he wanted and while he might not be loud about it, while he might even appear to be shy, he certainly brought up his needs delightfully politely. 

Closing his eyes again, the drow mage gave a low hum.  
Nothing special, that Caleb Widogast.  
Dangerously curious, maybe.  
Quick and bright mind.  
And so, so many endeavors across the lands. That man didn’t need dunamancy spells, he needed quicker ways to travel. Ways to travel without being bound to teleportation circles. 

Essek dug his face sideways into the pillow, breathing deeply.  
That would be quite an accomplishment, such a spell. To go wherever one pleased. Certainly with limitations, but a teleportation circle wouldn’t be one of them.  
Quite an accomplishment indeed…  
__

“It is the middle of the night, Essek. I swear, one day you will be the reason for them to give this library closing hours.”  
Essek turned around, finding his friend Elish standing behind him, arms crossed and head shaking. The healer watched him with a lifted brow. 

The mage smiled charmingly, a shrug barely visible under his wide cloak. “As you are here as well instead of in your chambers, I will certainly not be the only reason. But I believe Den Thelyss contributes more than enough to maintain this collection of knowledge. A few nightly visits should not be a problem.”

Elish snorted. “So, what keeps you up this time? Still your little dunamantic ink challenge?”

Essek shook his head with a wry smile. “It saddens me to say, but my dunamancy studies are stagnating. I thought it wise to change topic. Facing a different problem doubtlessly will direct my mind to new approaches, which might lead to fresh ideas when I come back to the ink problem.”

The other drow nodded. “Sounds reasonable. So, what is your newest nightly hunt for?”

“Teleportation. Without fixedly installed circles as an anchor,” Essek replied softly. 

Elish lifted both brows. Frowned. Tilted his head slightly. Finally, he sighed. “Why am I even asking? You never seem to tackle small problems. Sometimes I wonder if the challenges you seek are purely to sharpen your mind, or if you want to prove your worth.”

“Why, a bit of both I suppose.” Essek’s smile was sly. 

The healer sighed again. “I’ll have the kitchen send you some food. And tea. You and your allnighters, really. Wizards,” he grumped, touching the Shadowhand’s shoulder ever so slightly, before turning away and leaving.

The cobwebs of exhaustion cleared away, making Essek blink. With a fond smile, he turned back towards the row of books before him. “Thank you, my friend,” he mumbled.  
His fingertips traced the back of a few tomes, before he chose this one and that one, pulling them from their sibling’s grasp. 

When he spread them on the table, there was a small essay about teleportation that had snuck in between the books. The title was Zemnian, but he could decipher the word ‘teleportation’ quite well. 

Brushing his fingers over the cover, something inside him stirred.

Nothing special about that Caleb Widogast, hm?  
Nothing special at all…


	2. Favors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mighty Nein report about the Laughing Hand and Caleb asks a few favors from Essek Thelyss.

Hands folded in his lap, Essek watched the Mighty Nein report to his queen. The news they brought were none of the good kind, even more so when the evil they described as ‘The Laughing Hand’ didn’t seem to ring any bells with most people in the room. 

His eyes scanned over the wizard. He could see concern, worry on the face of the man, the incredible blue eyes darting between the Bright Queen and Skysybil Abrianna Mirimm. Not even the old goblin woman knew much about the Laughing Hand, making this strange evil creature indeed a somewhat concerning threat. 

Essek listened merely with half an ear. He studied Caleb Widogast’s posture and body language further, wondering how much the exploration of that ancient tomb had sharpened the skills of the wizard. He was alive, which accounted either for the healing abilities of his friends or his own cunning positioning in a fight. 

He looked beaten, the new coat stained with dust and blood, hair layered in dirt again. During the days gone, new solid stubble had started to cover the chin of the mage again, making his look ragged. 

_ Ragged and surprisingly handsome _. 

When the blue one, Jester, said they wanted to travel to the Flotket Alps, he leaned forward, an almost smug smile on his lips. His efforts to master teleportation had been successful, and it seemed his time to impress was upon him faster than he thought. 

“I can help with your travels to the Flotket Alps. Let me know when you are ready to depart, and I shall give you a lift,” he offered with smile, watching Widogast’s eyes widen for a second. Good.

* * *

Essek frowned ever so slightly. 

“If it would be possible, I would like to speak with that person in your prison. I know uh- a bit about them. Scourgers, that is. Maybe I can help you. Find out something,” Caleb Widogast said. 

So polite. Cautious. In those blue eyes was clearly written what the man wanted, his demeanour however showing his readiness to withdraw if things should go wrong. 

_ But he has become much more confident since their first arrival. It suits him._

“I can lead you to her, certainly.” Essek heard the wizard’s breath hitch for a moment. 

He tilted his head in a slight, inquisitive manner, yet asked no questions. 

“Follow me.”

* * *

Standing outside the prison cell, Essek was able to hear everything Caleb and the prisoner spoke inside. He was positively surprised at the insistence with which the human demanded the prisoner should look him in the face. 

But underlying his steadfast demands was something else that alarmed Essek. A shakenness, as if painful shards were pushed deeper into a soul that had only managed to pull them out a bit. 

When Caleb stepped back out of the cell, he did look pale. 

“Thank you, I think I am done,” he mumbled. 

Essek floated closer, his hand appearing from the depths of his cloak. He put the side of his index finger very gently under that stubbly chin, making Caleb look up in surprise. 

Such blue eyes. Such a strong and complex color, the color of the sky. The color of cornflowers. Colors he mostly knew from books. 

He looked deep into them, gazing into the human abyss of the soul, trying to find out if the man was hiding something. 

He expected the man to pull away, yet the wizard was frozen in place, not moving at all.

The drow shifted his attention from deception to the expression on Caleb’s face. 

Suprise, shock, a bit of fear. 

Slowly, Essek retreated. “I heard your voice break several times in that cell. You said you knew a little about scourgers. Personally, I think that is an… understatement.” 

“Ah. Ja.” Caleb rubbed his cheeks. “I once… I once was on my way to become one. A Scourger.”

The Shadowhand’s eyes widened, then narrowed quickly. “And are you one? Is that what you are telling me?” 

Vehemently, the other man shook his head. “No. I left the institution. They experimented on us. Twisted our minds, telling me my parents are rebels against the empire. Made me kill them.. I was in prison, for a while. Someone took the false memories away. And I..”

Caleb’s breath hitched again, more violently. 

Suddenly, he looked at Essek in a way as if he just remembered who he was talking to. 

Swallowing hard, the man shook his head. 

“No. I am not a Vollstrecker.” 

Essek remained silent for a moment. Then he gripped Caleb by his left arm. 

“Let’s leave this place. It is hardly a good scenery for someone remembering his prison days. Or the abuse of the Cerberus Assembly.” 

Without even a hint of struggle or protest, the human wizard fell in beside him, following him through the dunamany twisted corridors of the prison. Outside, the air was cool, almost crisp. The lights of Rosohna greeted them with unfazed gentleness, the huge tree on top of the Xhorhaus visible even from here. 

“Well. This shook me quite a bit. Herr Essek, can I utter one more request? I know, we are asking many things of you. I do not want to overstep, ja? But it is very important to me..”

Caleb’s voice trailed off. 

Essek caught his gaze quietly. In his heart, he already knew that a decline of that request was improbable. 

“This Scourger is to be executed, ja?” 

The drow nodded. “In a few days time.”

“If it is within your possibility, can you stall? Just a little longer. I would like to try and talk with this person once more. But we are off to another journey tomorrow..” The human wizard looked pleadingly now. 

Inwardly, Essek sighed. This request would mean he had to call in a few hard earned favors. 

“I will see what I can do, Caleb Widogast. However, be aware that one day, I might come to you for a few favors. It is always good to know people who get around as much as you and your friends do.” 

The man nodded, relief in his eyes. “I need to go now. Prepare for the journey.” 

“I advise you get a few thin but warm gloves.” Essek held up his hands. “Like these. The days are getting colder, and as far as my understanding goes, your lot is outside most of the time on your travels. ‘The Wiggling Finger’ is just down the street of the book shop you like. It should be on your way home.” 

A thin smile stretched over the human’s face. “Thank you, Herr Essek. Until tomorrow, then,” he said, before walking away. 

Essek remained, watching the man make his way into the Firmaments.

Nothing special, that Caleb Widogast, hm? 

He pinched the bridge of his nose. 


	3. Warning

“So it worked? Your trip to the Flotket Alps?” Elish asked, not looking up from the concoction he was mixing. 

Essek gave him a dazzling smile. “Well, of course! A bit bumpy, I admit, but I transported them safely across the lands. It was quite satisfying. You should have seen his face.”

The healer raised his eyebrows, signaling curiosity but still focussing on his work.

“Who’s face?” He asked gently.

Silence. 

Essek couldn’t believe how his own smugness had led him into revealing more than he’d wanted to, and of course his friend latched onto exactly this little detail. Then again he wasn’t sure what frustrated him more: Revealing his allure with a certain someone to Elish or admitting it to himself.

The healer chuckled when Essek didn’t answer his question, the silence stretching between them. 

“Caleb Widogast,” Elish finally dared to answer his own question, making Essek sigh. 

Denial was futile. He floated over to one of the bookcases, arms crossed. 

“Yes. Caleb Widogast. He is nothing special, though his knowledge of the Arcane is quite decent.”

Elish laughed outright now, setting aside his mixing bowl. “Nothing special? Essek, you are smitten. You mastered the Teleportation spell in less than a week, just so you could impress this human from the Empire. One does not simply pull that off if someone is ‘nothing special.”

Grinding his teeth, the Shadowhand pretended to study the titles of a few tomes in front of him, but in the end, Elish was right and further denial would have been truly ridiculous.

“Fine. He is a  _ little _ bit special and I do enjoy his company. I dare say, he also enjoys mine.”

Elish washed his hands in a bowl of water, looking over to his friend now.

“Of course he does. You wield powerful knowledge. I don’t want to dampen the mood, Essek, but be careful. His history and his origins are a real concern. As much as I wish for you to have found a kindred spirit here, as your friend I also need to warn you.”

The Shadowhand withdrew his hand back into his dark cloak. “I know. I am quite aware. And yet, this band of misfits called the Mighty Nein.. they hold promise. Widogast holds promise. And it is my duty to keep an eye on them, as well as it is my wish.”

When a warm hand touched his arm from outside the cloak, Essek turned around to look up into Elish’s calm face. 

“You are an intelligent, powerful user of the arcane and dunamancy, and you are my best friend. I have faith in you. Whatever the next weeks bring, I’ll be here, you know that, right?”

Essek smiled charmingly. “Oh I know.”

In an unusually playful way, he lifted his hand towards Elish’s hair, tousling it with a cheeky grin, before clearing his throat and finding back to his more professional demeanour. 

The other man only sighed, his braids now in disarray. 

“I’ll return to my studies now. I think I have a few new ideas that I want to try. Thank you Elish.” The wizard touched his friend’s arm, before floating away. 

__

Days passed. 

Essek did his best to fulfill the needs of his Queen, finding himself with quite a few tasks that kept him very busy. 

When Jester’s voice pierced his mind again, he was immediately curious what adventures the Mighty Nein found in the Flotket Alps - though he did his best not to let on.

They requested another teleportation. Well, that was not surprising.

Floating over to the ‘Xhorhaus’, as the Mighty Nein kept calling it, gave him time to ponder a little. Strangely, he liked what the group did with the house. Putting that tree on top of it and making it glow with daylight in glasses was most certainly unheard of in Rosohna, and it absolutely fit the somewhat random flavor of those people.

He entered, accompanied by the sound of the bells. Aside from the usual faces, there was a new one, who introduced herself as Reani. 

Essek smiled softly throughout her shy behaviour, tilting his head in greeting. 

Briefly, he allowed himself a look at Caleb Widogast, who was standing a bit farther back as usual. And yet. 

_ Not as guarded as in the beginning. His whole posture is different now. More confident. Less haunted. _ , he thought.

“So, where should I take you this time?” The Shadowhand asked.

“So, there is this place called Mythborrow, with a white dragon called Gilladon, and we need his breath to make some iceflex for fixing a nice sword to fight the Laughing Hand, and so we need to go there..” Jester explained, making him raise his eyebrows in a short moment of surprise.

A dragon. 

Before he was able to react to that, however, Caleb approached him. 

“Before we leave, about that prisoner.. I was wondering what our timeline is?” There was a nervous undertone in his voice. 

Essek looked into those cerulean eyes, admiring the color once more, before nodding. “I was able to push back the execution date about two weeks. If you want to see the prisoner, I need some time to arrange things - there are limits even for me within my den, and I have already pushed those quite a bit..”

The other wizard cleared his throat. “I understand, thank you, Herr Essek. Consider this my formal application to see the prisoner, please.”

“I shall put it it for you,” Essek replied, trying not to sound too satisfied with himself. Another favor fulfilled. He enjoyed the look of gratefulness and admiration on Caleb’s face. 

But in the back of his head, Elish’s warning tingled in his mind. He shoved it aside - for now.

“Alright then-” he started, caught off guard in the middle of his sentence when Jester whispered something about ‘a thing’ to Caleb.

The empire wizard seemed shy about showing him something, and it was absolutely delightful to watch. 

_ Show me. Show me, Caleb Widogast. Let me impress you further.. _

“Oh I’ll ask him. See, Caleb is such a polite young man, he just doesn’t want to bother you,” Nott piped up. Essek raised a single eyebrow, crossing his arms under his cloak.

“Caleb found an incredible page, filled with magic and wonder, and you might be the key to unlock it!” the goblin went on.

The drow’s gaze flicked over to Caleb, his curiosity piqued once more. He would have liked to have this moment of ‘magic and wonder’ alone with the man.

_ Maybe I can arrange for another teaching lesson when they come back..  _ If  _ they come back. _

There was always an ‘if’, wasn’t there? What would it be like to go out there, facing dangerous things every day?

“Also! I brought you a present!” Jester interrupted his thoughts, presenting him with a piece of strange bakery. “It’s a cupcake! It’s fresh, I swear!”

Squinting his eyes just for a second, Essek wove his fingers and the cupcake levitated through the air towards him. He studied it, intrigued against his will.

“Thank you. Now, what is this page you told me about?” he asked, vanishing the cupcake under his cloak.

Sheepishly, Caleb produced a piece of parchment from his satchel, handing it over. “I just acquired this. Does this mean anything to you, on that page? The ink is magical..”

Essek smiled inwardly. He extended his hand, deliberately brushing Caleb’s fingers when he took the page from him. Their eyes met for a split second. His heartbeat leapt, bringing a surge of heat with it.

Quickly, he retrieved the page, trying not to delve to deep into those eyes or the moment.

_ Elish is right. I’m smitten. _

Looking over the thing, it became clear that a simple dispelling of magic should do the trick. He was sure, Widogast would have done the same, given some more time… he was certainly capable of it. Of that, Essek was sure.

Before he could stop himself, he wove the incantation, and the magic dispersed from the page. Items fell out of its bottom, tumbling to the ground.

Maybe he should have not done that. Clearly, this was something the wizard could do on his own. And yet. 

“I think I figured it out,” he said nonetheless, a smug smile on his face.

“Sometimes, the simple solutions elude us.. I’m in your debt again.” Caleb said, and by the Luxon, he looked sheepish. 

_ So satisfying.  _

Essek’s smile became even wider. He couldn’t help himself but to answer with a smug ‘Mhmh’. 


	4. Crush

Essek looked at his cloak, which was covered in a thin layer of snow. As short as his time had been in the snowy landscape in front of Mythborrow, the weather still had managed to travel with him.

With a gesture of his hand, he scattered the melting snowflakes. But as easy as this little cantrip was, as heavy was his heart. 

Gelidon, the Nightmare in Ivory. 

_ They will all die,  _ he thought. 

Or would they? 

Stepping out of the anchor teleportation circle in the Lucid Bastion, he made his way to his home. There was much to do when he wanted to postpone the execution date of the Scourger, and even more to research about this Laughing Hand. No time to be worried about the Mighty Nein. 

No time to worry about Caleb ‘Nothing special‘ Widogast.

__

The sound of something being put on the table forcefully shook Essek from his almost-nap. He hadn’t even been aware he was about to fall asleep over his books, cursing inwardly for not just taking them home this time. 

The object responsible for the interruption was a beautifully crafted mug of dark purple clay, steam rising from it leisurely. Looking up, he found Elish standing beside him with a soft but worried smile, one hand around the inkwell.

With dismay, Essek saw dark droplets spilled over a few of his notes.

“That’s a new one, Essek. I think in all our time together I’ve never seen you almost ruin your hard work by toppling over the inkwell. I mean, except for the very early days..”

“And in those, we didn’t share each other’s company yet..”, the Shadowhand mumbled, waving his hand to magically swirl the costly ink back into the inkwell before closing it carefully. 

Elish sat down beside him with a sigh. “I heard you pushed back the execution date for the Scourger,” he said, and Essek was not sure if he should be relieved his friend changed the topic from his slacking off towards something equally touchy.

“That would be correct. Widogast requested another talk with the person. If his word can be believed, they share certain similarities regarding their training, and it is quite possible he gains crucial information from her.” 

He closed his books slowly. It was obviously late - again - and so far his research on the Laughing Hand was quite fruitless. Probably because he never got more than half an hour of time to put into this particular thing. 

Tired, Essek lifted the mug to his lips, eyes widening in surprise when he smelled the refreshing mixture of herbs and spices and cream. He caught Elish’s satisfied smile from the corner of his eye and took a long sip. 

“And how did I earn this? You don’t make my favorite drink often lately.”

The healer shrugged. “You never have time anymore. But you obviously need it. Also I figured it might distract you long enough from your studies to talk a bit.”

Essek felt a pang of guilt. He looked at the mug, his fingertips caressing the warm outside. “I’m sorry. I have neglected our friendship quite some recently. Dinner tomorrow?”

When Elish didn’t answer, he looked at the man, worried his offer sounded to shallow and hasty after just being reminded kindly that he was always busy. Indeed, the expression on his friend’s face, while not unkind, was hard to read.

Slowly and gently, the healer put a hand over Essek’s right one. “It would be a delight. Now, please, do me a favor, drink up and let me bring you home. I am worried, and I have a bad feeling about the Scourger in the prison. Which is why I want you to be well rested when you go down there again.”

The Shadowhand smiled widely. He gripped Elish’s one hand, squeezing it softly and vanished his books with the other. “How could I ever say no to this? Let’s go. I’ll drink on the way.”

___

A few days later, the Mighty Nein returned from their dangerous journey to Mythborrow. Relieved, Essek led them through the warped space that was the Dungeon of Penance. He felt Caleb Widogast’s presence directly behind him, and he thought he imagined apprehension in the step of the man. 

The guards greeted them merely with a nod, unlocking the prison door, revealing the chained scourger. Essek allowed Caleb and his friends inside, while he was waiting in front of the cell, listening. 

He remembered Elish’s words clearly, and tried to keep a close watch on everything that was happening through the door.

The conversation was a hopeless one. Whatever Caleb wanted to hear from this person, she didn’t comply. But she revealed at least one intriguing detail, though not surprising. A different name.

_ Bren Aldric Ermendrud. What a strange sounding name. I much prefer the other one. I wonder if we ever will reach a level where we skip titles and family names.. _ , Essek thought, when he saw sudden, swift movement inside the cell.

The outlines of a counterspell vanished with a sound of surprise and pain, one single chain clattering to the ground. Essek rushed inside behind the guards, who peppered the chest of the prisoner with crossbow bolts. 

His first impulse was to go towards Caleb, examining the wound at his neck. Blood welled, fresh and dangerously much.

But his friends were at his side and he could not allow himself to show such care in the open.

Instead, Essek directed his seething anger and worry towards the prisoner, lifting his hand with wide spread fingers, wrapping the beginnings of a deadly spell around her limbs. The glow of magic in his eyes covered his emotions. 

“Wait..” Caleb pleaded, shuffling forward. A healing spell must have closed the wound, now an angry red streak of weak, thin skin tissue.

And he did wait. The Shadowhand kept the prisoner in his magical grasp, ready to finish this execution. And when Caleb gave the sign, he crushed her, anchoring his gravitational magic inside her torso. It was a nasty sound.

_ You will never touch him again. And I will take care that his abusers won’t, as well. _

Vanishing his hand inside his cloak again, he watched the other wizard with a bloody hand push the hair from the prisoner’s face.

“I’m sorry,” he said to her, followed by a heavy “I think we’re done here.”

“I think we we are,” Essek replied gravely. 

__

He led them out of the prison and accompanied them home without asking permission. It was easy to justify. He was something like their host, their patron after all.

He kept his expression smooth, but on the inside, he was angry. How had the Scourger been able to not only obtain a sharp piece of metal, but on top of that also pull free?

Beside him walked Caleb, whom he shot the one or another sideways glance. The pale fingers occasionally rubbed at the freshly closed wound, and where the sleeves of his coat slid back, Essek was able to see the beginning of many scars. 

Clenching his teeth, the drow tried to find back to his usual patronizing self. He needed to be professional. Their short time together did not justify his worries, neither for the group in general, nor for Caleb in particular.

By the time they reached the Xhorhaus, Essek finally felt much calmer, but also filled with a strange, cold determination

Entering with them, the group started discussing their next endeavour: The search for another lost beacon. He provided them with all the information he could, which was exactly only that it had been last seen in Felderwin.

Calmly, the drow remained near the door, while the Mighty Nein started going through different options of gaining more information, listing a few allies. He took mental notes. Yussa Errenis. The Gentleman. 

“Can’t you sense Dunamagic, now that you have, you know, tapped into it?” Beauregard asked Caleb, who made a face upon her twist on the word.

“It is called Dunamancy. But I understand, not everyone can grasp the elaborate and sometimes esoteric depths of this topic,” Essek retorted with a smile.

“Yeah, I know. I’m just shortening the word, you know? Dunamagic. You don’t have to be patronizing, just because I’m making a pun here…”, she grumped, while his smile widened.

“But aren’t I always?” He said, slightly smug. 

The monk snorted. “That’s true..”

“However, as much as Beauregard here might have, ah, been a bit facetious, any arcane knowledge on this topic that might help and that you might be willing to share is valuable to us.”

When Caleb said that, Essek’s attention shifted entirely towards him.

“You know, I love my country, but it.. It is sick. And I.. we want to end this conflict, for the well being of both of our people, so..”

The Shadowhand saw nothing but honest forthrightness in those cerulean eyes, now haunted after the violent and fruitless talk with the Scourger. 

He shouldn’t teach this man too many of his carefully constructed spells. 

_ But they all still owe me favors and I need him alive. I just need him alive for my own goals. My spells can keep him alive. That’s all there is to this. That’s all there should be.. _

“Gather your books and let’s go to your study room.” 

__

Essek allowed Jester to tag along, mostly because he thought it would be best not to spend too much time alone with ‘not so special’ Caleb Widogast. 

Over the next few hours, he taught the man two new spells, enjoying very much how those blue eyes lit up. How he shifted from shy to eager when it came to the use of discarded timelines. 

When it was time for transcribing the first outline of the spells, Jester left, telling Caleb she’d wait for him so they could shop for components together. The room became quiet after that. 

Carefully, the red-haired wizard scribbled down runes, instructions and circles into his own spell book.

“So your real name is Bren Aldric Ermendrud?” Essek asked just when he saw the man finished a sentence with a soft period.

Caleb froze. Brows pulled together, he laid aside his quill, looking at the drow with a certain apprehension. “Ja. It is. But I discarded it when I fled the prison and took on a new one. I had many names for some time. Caleb Widogast is the one that stuck.”

The Shadowhand nodded. His gaze wandered to the man’s forearms, now bare, sleeves rolled up so they didn’t get accidentally spattered with ink. He saw Caleb twitch slightly when he noticed what he was looking at. 

_ So many scars.  _

“May I?” Essek asked calmly, pointing to the mangled skin. Their eyes met once again.

Wordlessly, the other wizard held out his arm, so he could study the scars.

Pulling his chair a bit closer, the drow put one hand under the arm, holding it gently, while the fingertips of his other traced the pattern. 

“This must have hurt quite a bit. May I ask what they used to do this?”

“Refined residuum. And ja, it hurt. A lot.”

Essek nodded, then shook his head. He caressed the scars with his fingers once more. 

Another twitch. Goosebumps on Caleb’s arm. 

He retreated, his heart beating far too fast. 

“Finish the spells. It is my hope they can keep you safe. I fear one day you will go and face your abusers.”

The other man smiled crookedly, but his eyes remained dark. “That is the plan.”

“And so it is important you are prepared. And I will do what is within my powers to help.”

_ Because while you are nothing special in this whole wide world, I fear you are becoming more and more special to me.. Please don’t make me regret it. _


	5. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small interlude because I noticed the whole chapter would have been far too long, so I split it.   
Elish has news for Essek, and he doesn't like them.

“You did not teleport them to Felderwin?” Elish sounded surprised. “Why?”

“Well for one, it is costly, and they do not seem to grasp this, lest they could have provided the components. And second.. I want him to come to me to learn this spell..”  
Essek thumbed through one of Elish’s personal notebooks, filled with herbal descriptions, the construction of healing spells and a variety of self-drawn pictures of rare plant specimens. He was sitting comfortably in Elish’s favorite chair, a soft monstrosity that could easily fit two.

The healer came over to him, taking the book gently from Essek’s hands. “Well, I am glad to see you found another hobby,” the man said dryly. “Or at least another kindred spirit. I just hope you don’t forget about me, once you and Caleb Widogast vanish into the depths of the libraries together.”

The Shadowhand lifted one of his elegant eyebrows. “I would never. I care far too much about you to forget you over a human wizard who is _ supposed _ to be nothing special.”

Elish laughed quietly. He carried his notebook over to a large backpack and put it inside one of the sidebags. Only now did Essek notice that this was not Elish’s usual bag - it was far larger and most certainly fit for longer travels.  
When his friend caught his stare, the healer straightened with a strangely sad smile.

Immediately, the wizard went from a comfortable slouching to an alerted straight position.  
“You are leaving,” he said, eyes wide.

Elish nodded. “I will accompany the caravan to the Ashguard Garrison. They are in dire need of supplies, especially medical ones.”

“You are going to the war.”

Upon Essek’s flat, almost cold tone, the healer winced. “It is a trip of merely a few weeks.”

“You could die! Dangerous creatures are spread within the planes, and the border is not easy to cross! Not to mention the empire spies and strike teams, that might attack the caravan!”  
The wizard stood now, fear and anger clearly showing on his face. Elish was supposed to remain here, in the safety of the Lucid Bastion, in the heart of the Kryn Dynasty!

His friend placed a hand upon his shoulder. “I am with capable Echowarriors and you know that I can defend myself quite well. I will be back before you even miss me.”

“No! This is war! They have no business sending you to the front lines. We have warriors for that. I will go to the Queen and-”

Elish took Essek’s face between his hands. “I volunteered, Essek. Our people are in need of healing. I cannot remain here when I know I could be out there and save lives.”

For a moment, the Shadowhand was in shock. Brows furrowed, he stared at the beloved face of his best friend, trying not to choke on the meaning of his words.   
Finally, he swallowed, forcing himself to be calm and composed, wearing his ‘court mask’ as Elish called it. It was certainly better than to break down here and now.

“So you leave me. That is what you are saying. You leave me and only tell me now! You know well I cannot follow. We are already trying to stop this war, why can’t they just wait a little longer..”

“Essek! People are dying. This is not about leaving you, this is about doing the right thing. I am one of the most capable healers here, I should be helping. And you know that. We can hardly wallow in the comfort of safety, just because it suits us best. You do your work. And I do mine. And I do not want to part in anger with you, because yes, I might not return. We have been friends for decades! Don’t give me your stupid court mask now.”

The healer had gripped Essek by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. The Shadowhand pulled Elish closer and embraced him harshly, face buried against the larger man’s shoulder.   
“Please, Elish. Please don’t die.”

Strong, good hands stroked his back soothingly. “I don’t intend to. I’m a healer. I don’t die that easily. Have a little faith, will you?”

“I try. I try.”

“And enjoy your time with him. I think he’s worth it.”

Essek’s brows furrowed further, hidden among the soft folds of Elish’s tunic.  
“I will try that, too.”

__

Elish was gone a day later, and Essek’s heart was aching with worry. He should trust the healer. He knew what Elish was capable of. What the Echowarriors were capable of.   
But the Empire had many capable lackeys as well, as the latest case with the Scourger proved. 

Every day he waited for a message to tell him how the caravan fared and if they arrived at the Ashguard Garrison. It was silly. The trip there would take a tenday, with the heavy boxes and the carts. Maybe a few days more, depending on what dangers they encountered. There would not be a report for quite some time.

If it had just been about the transport of persons, he could have done it. He and some of the other wizards of the court. 

To distract himself from Elish’s absence, he buried himself in work. Teaching lessons to younger students, attending more audiences of the Bright Queen, constructing spells that probably would never see use. And looking out for any reports of war he was authorized to read. 

Thanks to the Mighty Nein’s information earlier this year, it was not as bad at the Ashguard Garrison as it could have been.   
_ But they should have put more effort into ending this heinous war instead of chasing after shadows and doom of some minor servant of the hells. Or instead of chasing after a sword long forgotten. _

Or maybe he should. Maybe he should have helped stopping this war.  
_ No. My place is here. But they, they are of both worlds now. They could have done more to prevent this! _

He closed another tome, pinching the bridge of his nose. They did all they could and they owed the Kryn Dynasty nothing. It was not fair to make them responsible. And whenever they talked about this ominous ‘Angel of Irons’, they were dead serious about it being a major threat to both Empire and Dynasty. 

Essek sighed. He took a sip of tea long gone cold from his purple mug, when Jester’s voice pierced through his mind. She sounded sincerely panic.

“We found out some really dangerous, important things we need to talk to you about. I know you don’t want to, but we could really need your help with transportation. This is life or death for a lot of people. It’s at your doorstep..”

Tapping his fingers against the surface of the table, it took him a moment to consider this.   
_ They certainly sound desperate, and another teleportation will stack up their debts with me. They are capable people, and I like them. I like _him.

“Well. If it is indeed this important, then maybe it is something we can discuss. I trust that your interests are forthright. I’ll need your help soon anyway,” he finally replied, and got up. Obviously, there was not much time to lose, so he made his way directly to their house, where he waited for them, staring pensively at the ground, arms crossed beneath his wide cloak.


	6. Hollow Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mighty Nein are desperately asking Essek for help once again. Finally he agrees to bring them safely to the Lotusden.

The loud clapping of hooves made him look up. The Mighty Nein looked distraught and in haste, but he damned himself for admiring the pose Caleb Widogast was striking on horseback. With the fine coat and the blue-purple, long scarf floating in the wind behind him, he looked entirely too handsome.

“Sorry about this again,” Jester immediately piped up while gliding from the saddle. As in the message before, it was uncharacteristically serious for her. 

“As you can see, we came a long way. We just arrived,” Caleb said with the ghost of a crooked grin, a weak attempt at a joke, yet so uncalled for, Essek raised an eyebrow and felt himself relax a little.  
“We are a bit in a hurry. I know we are wearing out our welcome, but.. We need to go to the Lotusden,” the man continued.

Before Essek was able to react, a flood of words erupted from Jester and Nott, emphasizing with panicked voices how dire the situation was. That the figure they’d encountered in the north now was about to release another evil, similarly dangerous or even more than the Laughing Hand, all under the banner of the cult ‘Angel of Irons’.

The drow sighed. “I already agreed. You do not have to try to convince me any further,” he said softly.   
“Do you have a place to put your horses?”  
They were beautiful steeds and somehow he hoped to see Caleb on one of them once more. For a very brief moment he wondered what it was like to ride out with the man. He reined himself in at once. These were no thoughts for now.

He saw Nott and Fjord exchange a glance.  
“Consider them a gift for your continued assistance,” they said, giving Essek a whole new reason to raise his eyebrows.

_ Maybe I should keep two of them.. One for me and one for.. _

“Ja, these are… Empire horses. They are a rarity in these parts,” Caleb added.  
“They might know something,” Fjord said, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Essek felt his steadfast, calm expression crack with a begrudging, amused smile.   
With the barest shake of his head he looked at the group.   
“Well, I do not consider this payment. I prefer a favor for a favor. And I’m certain I will call in these favors some time in the future. But for now, just go ahead and hitch them to the exterior of your home and we’ll be on our way.”

While they were busy with finding a good spot to attach their horses to, Essek watched Caleb from the corner of his eye while pretending indifference.  
The man stroked his horses’ flank softly, but also looked very nervous around the animal. As if he’d once known how to interact with it, but just remembered slowly now. 

Strands of slightly dusty, matted red hair had loosened from the hair tie, framing the pale face. He sported a beard again, but it was not as scruff as when he spoke first at court. It was clean and Essek saw the effort the man put into taking care of it.   
_ And he’s wearing the gloves I have been recommending… _

Finally, the Mighty Nein were done. They discussed where exactly they should go. The Lotusden was quite a large area, and it seemed the figure they were tracing was last seen north of the woods, entering them from the marshlands. 

“If you want to go south of the swamp, then you’d be on the northern side of the den,” Essek offered finally. He’d only listened with half an ear, but from what he gathered, that was where this Obann figure had last been.

They agreed to that, and after gathering around Essek, he made sure he stood close to Caleb. Teleportation without a circle always was a bit of a gamble, and the other wizard was the one he least wanted to go lost in case of miscalibration. 

With an elegant flourish, Essek wove the sigils in the air as they all gathered and joined hands, taking Caleb’s just when the spell snapped into place.   
His tight grip sparked a gut-warming sensation within him, and he focussed on it while the rush of air and the slight vertigo of being replaced somewhere else took them.

Immediately, the air smelled damper, a mixture of swamp and moss. The sound of southern crickets and frogs was loudest in the air, as well as the bright twittering of birds.   
Most definitely not an environment he wanted to stay in for longer than necessary.

While the Nein started making plans, he made his way over to a rock to inscribe a Teleportation circle, levitating a little bit higher than usual as to not get his robes dirty.   
He was halfway through the intricate work, being considerably slowed down by this not quite smooth rock, when they interrupted him.

“Hey Essek!” Beauregard called, almost making him do an unwanted squiggle with the precious chalk.

Looking up, he saw Fjord hold up a map, pointing to the middle of the Lotusden Greenwod.  
“Sorry, we wanted to go here, can you do that? I think there was a misunderstanding..”

The drow straightened, holding his chalk gingerly between thumb and index finger of his right hand. The way Fjord said this struck a nerve with him. Not polite at all, instead kind of commanding, almost condescending. With barely masked frustration, Essek looked into the faces of the Nein. He saw Caleb’s gaze towards the blue chalk, mumbling something to Beauregard about how expensive this stuff was. 

Yes. Yes it was expensive. Could they even imagine how much gold he’d spent for all these trips for them? The time he invested in them, only for them to jump around the continent to chase after shadows? Hearts and Hands and sparkling swords?

His patience wore thin quickly now, especially with Fjord and Beauregard adding even more flippant comments, before going silent with a ‘Or you know, it’s fine where we are..’.

Caleb stepped forward, and he had Essek’s attention at once. He looked contrite, closing the distance between them carefully.   
“I think what my companions are trying to request.. Uhm. We weren’t clear enough. Which is foolish, I know, because the stakes are so high right now. But we actually wish to go farther into the Lotusden, where Fjord pointed out on the map.”

The wizard sounded soft, and a little nervous, and when he was in front of him, Caleb reached out with his hand and placed it slowly on Essek’s forearm. A deliberate touch. A pleading look from incredibly cerulean eyes, apologetic for the misunderstanding, for the hassle they put him through. 

“It’s on me,” he said. “I should have been a little more involved in the planning of this moment, and I apologize. Very much.”

The Shadowhand was about to place his hand onto Caleb’s. Was about to reach for his face with his other.  
But Jester stepped forward and touched Caleb’s back, mumbling something along the lines of ‘The Traveler loves you so much’.   
Essek took but a moment to understand what she was doing, making him halt all his movement at once. 

_ So is that it? You want to help your friend appease me with the powers of your god, because you really think I would just go and leave you to your own devices, after you told me how important this is for you? _

New anger flared inside him. Disappointment.   
Nevertheless, he vanished chalk and hands back inside his cloak.  
“Very well. Though this is expending the limits of my prominent abilities for the day..”

They looked at him hesitantly, not moving at all.

“Come, gather! Do you want to do this or not?” Essek almost snapped at them. He softened his harsh tone as much as possible. It was not much.

“Do.. do you want to hang out with us until you have regained your spells and stuff? I mean you can,” Jester offered apologetically.

He gathered himself for a moment. With a cool smile, he lifted an eyebrow, saying “There would be nothing I’d love more than to not be around you all for the remainder of this day. So? Let’s try this again, shall we?”

Caleb squeezed his forearm. But even this felt shallow right now, and Essek hated not being able to enjoy this moment of touch, pulling his arm from the wizard’s grip to show his frustration.

He saw the man furrow his brows in understanding, but also flinching ever so slightly from the rejection. And yet, there was nothing Essek could or wanted to to about it. Not now, anyway.

They joined hands once more while he wove the spell. A spike of exhaustion and drain pulsed through his body, the beginnings of a light headache from casting such a taxing incantation twice in a row with not much of a break in between.

Once again, they got sucked through space and popped out again, farther to the south this time. The buzzing of even more insects filled the air, clicking and chattering of small critters as well as exotic birds.   
It was humid, yet cold. The sweet and heavy scent of flowers mixed with a thick mist just above the ground. 

“Well. Now I have now formally visited the Lotusden. I would not wish to return. Good luck.”  
He was about to turn around, halting once more, when Jester called out to him.

“Essek, do you know about any ruins around here, or anything? Have you heard of something?” she asked surprisingly shyly.

“I have _ no _ idea,” he replied, wishing to be home already. 

“Hey Essek, are you mad at us?” Beauregard now wanted to know, while he was already drawing a sigil in the air, his gaze flickering over to Caleb.

“Mad is not the right word. I would say.. Ready to leave.” There, he even managed a smile, as unfelt as it was. Well done. Mask still somewhat in place. 

“Hey man.. We haven’t forgotten. We owe you a favor, and you wanted to talk to us about needing something, so.. Hey you’re at the top of our list as soon as this is done,” Beauregard promised.

He almost huffed. “A _ number _ of favors, I have not forgotten.” He paused, sighing inwardly.   
“But in all honesty, be careful, be safe, do not be stupid and.. Goodbye.”  
And before they could interfere with this departure again, he took off in the air, flying back towards his unfinished rune circle to finish his return to Rosohna.


	7. Something Special

Making his way through the Lucid Bastion felt strange. As usual, he did not make any sound, gliding through the air smoothly, but today, it didn’t give him satisfaction. It just made the wide halls feel eerie. Empty. 

His anger was gone now, replaced by a strange mixture of frustration and regret. It was not fair of him to make them responsible for Elish’s decision to go to the front. Nor was it fair to hold them responsible for this war still raging on. They were in over their heads, trying their best to live torn between the two countries, gaining trust with the Dynasty but at the same time longing for opportunities to root out the sickness in their home.

And yet. The feeling of hollowness lingered. Elish had not yet sent him a message. Worry crept back into his heart, making it hard to breathe for a moment.   
The Nein battled some cruel entity on the way to release more cruel entities, and his best friend was on his way to war. They all might die. 

But what could he do about it? He was a Shadowhand. Master of the Arcane, sworn to his queen, interrogator and spell creator, keeper of secrets and a valuable member of intelligence.   
He was bound to stay here, he couldn’t just leave and assist Elish. Or the Mighty Nein.

Well, there was _ one _ thing he could do.  
Tired, he changed his route mid-step, taking a turn towards his office. Despite the late hours, he called in a few of his subjects, instructing them to put further research into the ‘Angel of Irons’.   
His currently slightly hurt feelings aside, this was a matter of importance and urgency, and it was time he handled it as such.

His subjects left quickly. Essek rubbed his temples with a sigh, when his eyes fell upon a small pouch on his desk sitting on top of a purple slip of paper.   
He took a look at the receipt. Purple paper meant security had investigated the pouch first and given approval. It merely said ‘Components’ on it.

Lifting an eyebrow, Essek regarded the pouch with a puzzled look on his face. He didn’t order any components.   
Gently, he picked up the pouch and opened it. One compartment held gold dust, the other one three long, glittering chalks of the highest quality.   
A note was stuck in the dust, peeking out slightly. 

Carefully, he pulled it from its glimmering place. The handwriting on it was meticulous, a fine script without flaws, every repeating letter exactly the same. There was no variation in the spacing between words or letters, and every line was straight and absolutely parallel to the next one.

Caleb Widogast’s handwriting was a little miracle and as always astounding to look at.   
Hovering beside his table, the Shadowhand read the message quietly.

_ I send you these components. You have been a great help to us, and I know we have been very demanding. My friends are not always aware of the price of things. I hope these components can be a little compensation for your time and effort, on top of the favors we owe you. _

_ With respect,  
_ _ Caleb Widogast_

With respect.  
Somehow, this struck a nerve with him.

Essek summoned his spell book from its dimensional pocket, opening it at the pages that described the spell for Resonant Echo. Gently, he put the note inside, neatly tucked between spell outlines.   
He gave the note a last look, vanished his book and finally left his office for his chambers.

__

He turned around for the third time, tired, but unable to find sleep. The darkness held no solace tonight, nor did the thought of getting up and going to the library.   
Essek rolled onto his back and stared. He was so tired, but at the same time too restless, his thoughts turning, twisting, bouncing back and forth.

Sitting up, he crossed his legs and closed his eyes, trying to even his breathing, trying to meditate himself to sleep.   
To no avail. 

_ He _ kept creeping back into his mind, the picture of a serene profile, blue eyes fixated on rune script, the ginger hair tied into a loose ponytail, with an expression of concentration and peace on his face. 

With respect.  
That was it? Respect? It was a start, yes, but was this the only way Caleb Widogast felt about him? Was he simply trying to be polite, trying not to overstep? What about the fragile friendship the human had hinted at?   
_ And what else would you have expected to read? _ He asked himself, getting out of bed with a frustrated sigh.   
Love, Caleb Widogast?

Essek froze. Dragged a hand over his face. Love was a strong word. Too strong. But it was still the first it had come to mind, wasn’t it?  
A minor detail, maybe, but an essential one.

“I don’t think I can fool myself much longer. It is most definitely not friendship I want,” he murmured to himself.  
Though, undoubtedly, a true, kind friendship was probably already more than he could hope for with that man, and he would take it gladly. 

Suddenly, the door rattled loudly, distracting him from his thoughts.  
“Shadowhand Essek! There was a break-in at the secret archives!”

The wizard cursed silently under his breath. Then, with significantly more composed voice, he answered “I shall be right there.” and got dressed again.   
Sleep was overrated anyway.

__

He did not sleep that night. The investigations of the break-in kept him up, and the Queen insisted on sending two guards with him wherever he went. As someone with access to the archives, he was as much under suspicion as anyone. 

Essek was surprised when the Nein called upon him around noon. He felt a deep relieve at them being back safe, deeper than he wished for. Gliding through the city gave him time to sort his thoughts and feelings, while the echo warriors at his side grimly kept his pace. 

He left them in front of the Xhorhaus, however. The conversation with the Nein was brief. Once again, they told him about pressing matters regarding this cult which opened portals to the Abyss, as well as some pretty intriguing insight on current court intrigues. 

The Shadowhand wondered how they might know, especially since the break-in had been handled with utmost care and secrecy.   
_ What Clay says is too close to a truth they should not be aware of. _

And yet. Their intentions seemed forthright as always. They didn’t play a game, they remained on their path and tried to do the best they could.   
When they started talking about allies and leaving again, he interrupted.  
“Apologies.. I am aware you have .. urgent matters to attend to. But before you whisk yourself away again, Widogast, might I have a word in private with you?”

Surprised, Caleb looked at him. “Ja. Certainly..”  
The human led him up to his study, a well known room to him by now. 

Inside, door closed, Essek studied the other man, his posture, his behaviour. Calm, yet apprehensive. The blue eyes were darting to his face and back down to his hands.

“I have received your gift and I appreciate the gesture. Thank you. The components will certainly come in handy in the future.” The Shadowhand waited for Caleb to look up, and when he did, there was a strange determination in the man’s eyes.   
The drow continued. “I was.. A bit harsh yesterday. And hardly fair. I want to apologize for my behaviour.”

“Well, you shouldn’t. My friends and I, we were very demanding. I understand your anger. It is within your right to demand respect. We owe you. A lot,” Caleb replied quietly, fidgeting with his hands.   
“I am not good at this. But I want to say, I enjoy time with you. Because you understand. I enjoy it not only because I am eager to learn. I enjoy it because of you being around.”

Surprised, Essek stared into those impossibly beautiful eyes. Of all things, he had not expected for Caleb to start this very conversation he himself had planned to have.  
For once, he dropped his ever courteous mask, his smile vanishing for a moment.  
“My best friend left me, because he is helping at the Ashguard Garrison. He is a healer.. And I fear he won’t come back.”

Confusion in the other wizard’s face. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I was angry that you did not stop the war yet, and a part of that contributed to my frustration yesterday. I apologize. It was hardly fair. Despite all, II wish to continue this.. This strange relationship with the Mighty Nein.”

“Ah, ja. I’m.. I’m sorry. For your friend.” Confusion turned into understanding, turned into genuine disappointment.

A smile crept back into Essek’s face. He allowed himself to float a little closer.  
“You said, we are friends, told me you enjoy my company. I will be open with you, Caleb Widogast: My heart is not in a place of friendship when it comes to you. It is quite different for me. I enjoy your company, your wit and your courage. Your determination. If friendship is, what this becomes, I take it gladly. Yet if there is hope for a more romantic approach, this is where I would like to go.”

It looked as if there was a spark in those blue eyes, now widening in surprise. The pale cheeks flushed with a healthy red. “I.. that is unexpected. I was not aware.. Someone like me… I don’t understand. I am nothing special.”

The Shadowhand almost laughed, hearing those same words he’d told himself again and again, to deny his feelings for the other man. But from Caleb’s mouth, they were sad. A testimony of a broken confidence.  
It angered him. He saw it clearly, the shining, strong person hidden behind those cracks in the soul.   
It angered him someone had done this to Caleb.

He floated closer still, one hand appearing from the depths of his cloak. The human’s eyes widened even more, when he put the tips of his fingers ever so gently on one reddened cheek.  
“You, Caleb Widogast, _ are _ something special. Everything special. And I dearly hope you find self-forgiveness, for within you there is a brightness I one day would be honored to witness breaking free.”  
His fingers slid lower, to the chin, lifting it. He heard hitching breath. Was he going to far?

Before he could retrieve his hand, Caleb placed his own on top of it, holding it in place.  
His lips moved without sound, eyes still so wide, staring at him. 

For a moment, the drow closed his eyes, searching his own heart. Opening them, he drifted yet closer and pressed his lips slowly onto those foreign ones, eyes fixed on the blue in front of him, sparking again. 

“Everytime you leave, I brace myself for you not to return, Caleb Widogast,” he whispered, his breath still close to the other man’s face.   
“Next time you return, let us talk about this. It is hardly a conversation that makes sense now, when you are on the verge of going away again.”

The other wizard blinked furiously, shaking himself out of his frozen state.   
“Ja. Ich..”  
His hand shot forward, gripping Essek by the cloak. “Can I have one more of these, please? I was somewhat out during the first one, sorry.”

The Shadowhand smiled smugly. He allowed himself to place both hands against Caleb’s chest, slowly stroking upwards before gripping the shoulders and pulling him closer.  
This time, the other man studied him, seemed to almost consume this moment of closeness. 

Caleb relaxed his grip on Essek’s cloak, raising it towards his face and placing it gently against it.   
“I want this,” he said.

“I certainly hope so,” Essek replied quietly and kissed him again, deeper this time. Longer. A lingering kiss of soft lips against another. It was exciting, like an electric current lazily coursing through his veins.   
And the other wizard responded with a strangely hesitant passion, now holding his face in both hands, boldly, dominantly, if only for a brief moment.

The Shadowhand broke the kiss slowly, licking his lips. He took one of Caleb’s hands and put a small pouch in it. The same pouch he’d found on his desk just the night before.  
“Take these and stay safe, Caleb. Return. And keep your friends close.”

“Thank you, Essek. I don’t know if this.. What I… feel..”

“I am aware. And I have time - but I will not wait forever. Let’s talk after your return.”  
_ If you return… _

Caleb nodded. Clumsily, he smoothed out the crinkle his hand had left in Essek’s cloak, clearing his throat.   
“Goodbye, Essek.”

“Goodbye, Caleb.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the last chapter. I am sorry to say so, but I am very much someone who writes as long as the muse still has fire. As there are no Essek-Caleb-interactions happening lately, and this is a story that tries to stay close to canon, this story loses its traction in my brain.  
I might write a few one-shots or other short things, that are entirely headcanons, though. 
> 
> And who knows, whenever there's more material, this thing here might become a series and have a second round. ;)  
Thank you all so much for reading my story, I appreciate all your support! <3  
Love you all!


End file.
